


Umm... Sorry?

by Arielphf



Series: Frodo's Harem [6]
Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: Frodo's Harem, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arielphf/pseuds/Arielphf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isn't it amazing what a little elvish medicine and a lot of lovin' can do?</p>
<p>There are quite a few 'in' jokes in this piece but I hope even if you aren't familiar with the players and their idiosyncrasies, you will enjoy the story.</p>
<p>A tale of the Frodo's Harem universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The following fic contains references to the ladies of the Frodo's Harem thread at Imladris (Council of Elrond forum) - any resemblance to persons living or dead is intentional - though most of the ladies mentioned have moved on to other fandoms and are no longer using these names, or have dropped out of the fandom all together. 

 

 

“Now, Frodo, dearest, do be careful with that axe. I keep my tools very sharp, and you are swinging it close to something I hold near and dear.”

Frodo looked over his shoulder at the speaker from where he was straddling the felled tree. He’d been loping off the smaller limbs so it could be hauled easily through the woods. Ariel smiled at him brightly and batted her eyelashes.  

“I have done this before you know”, he responded dryly. “And I am being quite careful. I’m rather attached to them myself.” Elenya, holding the pony, giggled and Mel looked up from the rocks she’d been examining and rolled her eyes.  

“Just looking out for my ‘interests’,” Ariel added with a toothy, falsely innocent grin. Frodo shook his head with mock exasperation and continued loping.  

“You know, if you’d been looking out for your interests better, you wouldn’t be limping right now,” he countered. “You don’t need to do this forestry work all by yourself. It’s dangerous. If you’d had someone else here when you hurt yourself, you wouldn’t have had to come limping back to the smial.”

Ariel pursed her lips, but her eyes were not on Frodo’s face when she replied. “But sweetheart! If I had not gotten hurt, I would have forgone the pleasure of seeing you working.” She sighed. “And it’s such a nice view too.”

Frodo did not dignify her comment with a response. He was almost done, and Elenya was hooking the pony’s harness to the log so that they would be able to drag it to the landing. It was a small patch of woods, but with Ariel’s careful management, it was more than able to supply Bag End West with fuelwood. She picked her trees most carefully; cutting only those that had injury or poor form. The forest that was emerging from her ministrations was tidy and breathtakingly majestic. She did a good job, Frodo had to admit, but she was jealous of the little plot as if it were her own private sanctuary, and rarely asked anyone to join her there. He hoped that the ‘invasion’ of her privacy, necessitated by her own carelessness, irked her enough to think twice about attempting to harvest such a big tree by herself again.

The log was hickory; a tough wood, and green as it was, very springy. The axe, though sharp, often glanced off the side and several times Frodo had nearly buried it into his thigh. He fluffed the curls out of his eyes and hacked at a stubborn branch that refused to cut. Maybe if he hit it a little harder.

Mel was watching him when the axe finally passed through the branch, but the extra force Frodo had put into the blow made the tool glance sharply off the bark. Its edge cut deeply into Frodo’s inner thigh and she shrieked. Frodo gasped and pulled it back but too late. The axe had made a neat cut, just paralleling the seam and not just through the fabric. Frodo winced as he felt the fiery bite of pain that indicated he had done just exactly what Ariel had just finished warning him against. There would be no living with her now.  

“Frodo, you’re bleeding!” Elenya exclaimed running to him and reaching for the wound. Frodo grabbed his own thigh before she could and his heart sank as he felt the telltale weep of blood flowing from the wound. “Quick, apply pressure and elevate it!” She grabbed his leg, almost knocking him off his feet.

“It’s all right, just a scratch,” he replied protesting as he tried to push her hand aside. “This wood just wanted me to pay for its felling, that’s all.” He turned to look at Ariel with a look that dared her to say ‘I told you so’ and she shut her mouth, just opening to say that very thing, with a snap.

“Let’s get you back, now,” Mel said, taking his arm. “We’ll put you on Strider. Just lie back and take it easy. The log can stay where it is for the time being.” She took his arm and he lifted his leg over the log. It hurt,… a lot. Perhaps the wound was deeper than he had anticipated.  

“Yes,” he agreed. “It might be best to have this cared for, before continuing. We don’t need more invalids in the smial.”  

The ladies guided him carefully over the downed underbrush to where Strider, the pony, stood. Elenya let go of her death grip on his leg, much to Frodo’s relief, and unhooked the harness, draping it over her shoulder while Mel helped Frodo up onto the pony’s back. The minute he let go of the wound to climb up, Frodo’s leg began to really bleed and blood dripped off the bottom of his foot. Mel looked grim as she noted how pale he was beginning to get and motioned her sisters to hurry. Ariel stumbled up beside Strider and leaned heavily on her cane.

“You know, Frodo, you don’t look very well at all. How deep was that cut?” Elenya asked, her tone coloring with real concern as she reached up to reapply pressure to the wound. Frodo shook his head to assure her that he was going to be all right, but the motion made him instantly dizzy. He heard the blood rushing in his ears and found it suddenly impossible to remain upright. To the dismay of his ladies, he sagged and slipped off of Strider’s side, leaving a bright stain of blood on the pony’s white coat and falling into Ariel’s surprised arms. She dropped her cane and carried him to the ground. Frodo looked up at the concerned faces that stared down at him. They all looked terrified, but Ariel, closest to him also appeared flushed and excited. With a last effort, he scoffed at her in disgust.

“You love this, don’t you?” he asked, and her vigorous nod of ascension was the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Bag End West erupted like a bee hive when Mel, Elenya and Ariel returned, traveling as fast as they dared with an unconscious Frodo draped over Strider’s back. Stormyday took over care of their stricken master, but not before Pearl managed to pull him from the pony and crush his body to her bosom.

“Oh, my beloved!!!” she cried dramatically. “My dearest is wounded and I am distraught beyond consoling! Oh woe is me! Stormy, you MUST save him!”

“He’d probably fare better if he could breathe,” Erendis’ dry wit broke through Pearl’s lamentations and the buxom lass looked down at Frodo in shock. He was turning blue.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Sorry!” She eased her grip and she and Ele, being strong and capable, carried him bodily into the smial. The other ladies followed holding Frodo’s feet raised till the poor hobbit was almost upside down. Now his face was turning red. Stormy lingered behind and touched the shoulders of the Bethel and Anais.

“I think this wound is more serious than it looks, and I am worried.” Stormy’s voice was low and urgent and the two sisters leaned closer to hear it. “I can treat it, but I think he will need elvish medicine. Could one of you ride into Avallone and fetch a healer? I think we will need one and quickly.”

“I think we’d be better served by sending Juliebeth, Stromy, oh,…er… Stormy! She is the fastest rider we have.” Anais nodded towards the smial. “I’ll fetch her instead – there is no time to lose!”

Juliebeth was fetched from her post by the side of Frodo’s bed and agreed to ride off for aid. The mission would be something only she could do for her beloved, while every haremite in the place was standing about in the VERY crowded bedroom. “I’ll be back as swiftly as I can!” she called. “And I will have a healer here if I have to drag him back!” She leapt onto Strider’s back and dashed off towards the capital.

Meanwhile, in Frodo’s bedroom, the hobbit had been laid out and Elda was busily divesting him of his clothing. Several others volunteered to help, but the slender lass fairly growled at anyone who dared to touch the fabrics. Chica and Niph huddled at the foot of the bed and watched as Frodo’s trousers were removed by Elda’s expert touch.  

“Wow…,” murmured Chica. “That was WAY too close for comfort! Look there! An inch to the left and.…!” She shuddered, not even wanting to imagine such dire consequences.

Niph nodded and peered closer. “You are right!” she whispered. “Oh, dear! It’s so close! Do you think there are nerves there that might have been affected? I mean, do you think…, “ her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “That he will suffer any lasting ‘effects’?”

The look of terror on Chica’s face indicated she had not thought of that possibility. “Well that’s something **I’m** going to find out at the soonest opportunity!” The two nodded vigorously in agreement and then bit their respective lips in horrified contemplation.  

“We need to keep pressure on the wound,” reminded Stormy. “Who wants to hold this dressing in place?” Every hand in the room shot up eagerly. Meryl, who wasted no time raising her hand, promptly plopped down on the bed beside Frodo, tossing Elda and the pile of clothes right to the floor. Ele bent to help her irate sister to her feet because it was quite clear that while Elda might have been forced to give up her place on the bed, she wasn’t losing her grip on the tweedy coat! Though Ele did manage to pry the one shirt away from her.  

  
Meanwhile, on the streets of Avallone, a flushed and frantic Juliebeth almost ran down Goldenberry who was out doing some shopping. Goldenberry was the finest healer in the smial and it seemed more of the day’s bad luck that she had been away when Frodo returned. Juliebeth pulled the pony up short before her sister and motioned for her urgently.

“You must come back at once!!!” she gasped. “Frodo’s been hurt and I’ve been sent to find a healer! You are a healer yourself and have worked with the elves, haven’t you? Do you know someone you could get to come?”

Goldenberry was shocked and dismayed and quickly pried as many details from Juliebeth as the breathless lass could relate.  

“This sounds like it might have hit an artery… oh, dear! Time is of the essence. I know of one elven healer who is well versed in hobbit medicine. Could you take me to him?”

Juliebeth pulled her sister onto the back of the pony and followed her direction down the elegant city streets. At a lovely garden gate, Goldenberry asked her to stop and slid down the pony’s side. A tall elf lord (with curiously green skin?) greeted her and bowed low as he asked her what the matter was. Goldenberry deferred to Juliebeth’s explanation and the elf lord thought carefully.

“I will come, of course, but I must prepare a few things. My dear Goldenberry, I believe you may have purchased something from me today that will be of great use in this case! The phial of miru-yohimbe. It is a wonderful tonic for the blood and will cure almost any ills a hobbit might encounter, including injuries to the circulatory system. Entirely vegetarian too! But you must be very careful and use only as much as I indicated. If you dose him too much, he may have some surprising side effects!”

“I will remember, my lord.” Goldenberry curtsied. “But please follow as soon as you are able. I may be a healer but there is no equal to elvish medicine. My lord Frodo deserves the best we can give him.”

“I will be to your dwelling as soon as I am able, but I am sure with that tonic and your skills, your lord will recover most swiftly.”

Goldenberry was helped back onto the pony’s back and Juliebeth spurred him down the streets and on, as fast as the poor beast could run, to Bag End West.

 TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

 

Back in Frodo’s bedroom, the one hobbit was beginning to gain some color back in his alabaster cheeks. While Meryl kept pressure on the wound as Stormy had instructed, Quicksilver found a dressing gown and she and Spork (an oddly named hobbit lass :p ) clothed him. Various sighs of disappointment were heard throughout the room as his much beloved form disappeared beneath clothing once again. Arryle eyed the company critically and shook her finger at those assembled.

“Now, now! Remember ladies, we have to keep everything PG!” and she spared a warning glance for Meryl whose hand, still applying pressure to the wound, had also disappeared under the fabric. Meryl smiled wickedly but said nothing.

Hewene, unable to contain her worry, broke into sobs and had to be restrained or she would have fallen onto her lord in her grief. Little Tata, though, was quicker than Hewene. She darted past her sisters and jumped onto the bed to wrap herself tightly around Frodo’s unconscious body. It took several other haremites to dislodge her as she cried inconsolably onto his shoulder. Frodo groaned as they pulled her off of him and the sound caused several of the ladies to swoon in answer.

“Oh VERE is dat ‘ealer?!” cried Ellin Estel, her soft accented voice mirroring perfectly the torment they all felt. Mel took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Juliebeth rode as quickly as she could, I am sure. All we can do now is wait and hope.”  

And wait they did. A fire was lit to warm the room and Elanorh brought tea and sweet juice for when Frodo woke, an event that they all hoped would be soon. The tension and worry was thick enough to cut with a knife. Each lady was terrified for Frodo’s well being, but they also each held an unspoken concern for how the injury was going to affect him. Surely, they had gotten him home in time to save his life, and that, of course was paramount, but…. Cion leafed through the pages of the appointment book wondering sorrowfully if she would ever write names in it again. The thought struck her with such despair that she almost threw the thing in the fire. Lily sat down on the bed opposite Meryl and gently stroked Frodo’s cheek, willing him to waken.

“Open your eyes, my sweet. Don’t torment us so.” She bent and kissed his brow and at that moment, Frodo’s bright blue eyes fluttered open. He looked about at the gathered ladies packed tightly into what had previously been considered a spacious room.

“Yes?” he asked of the assemblage, and it seemed then that he became aware of where Meryl’s hand was and he blushed crimson. “I think I can hold that, my dear” and he tried to push it away, but she would have none of it.

“It’s still bleeding, Frodo.” Stormy told him gently. “We need to keep the pressure there so that you won’t lose any more blood. We’ve called for a healer and he’ll be along very soon. You just lie quiet and we will tend you.” The head of every haremite bobbed in enthusiastic agreement. Frodo looked about at the crowd of ladies and felt quite self-conscious to be the center of attention.

“I feel a right fool in all this, you realize?” he responded weakly. “My own fault, entirely. I should never have been so careless with such a sharp instrument.”

Opaline shushed him with a gentle caress of his cheek. “Oh, dear, it was an accident! And you were being so sweet to help. How could anyone fault your actions? No, it was just bad luck, but I hazard to say that we won’t ever let you risk…. Um,…yourself, in such a way again.” The vigorous nods were fervently repeated.

The mood in Frodo’s bedroom was much improved by the time Juliebeth returned with Goldenberry. The lovely maid elbowed her way in with her basket still on her arm to where Lily still sat and she pulled out the vial that the elven healer had given her.  

“They told me this would cure you, Frodo, so I came back with it as soon as I could.” She unstoppered the cork and poured a tiny amount of the liquid into the spoon that Lily handed her. “Drink this, my sweet!” She carefully tipped the medicine into his waiting mouth and every haremite watched intently, rapt as his little pink tongue licked the tasty stuff off his lips. A collective sigh of swoony delight echoed all round the room.

Frodo’s color improved almost immediately and he moved his legs, experimenting. “The pain is gone!” he exclaimed. “I feel wonderful!” He looked down at where Meryl still held the bandage. “I really think you can let go now,” he said pointedly. Meryl pouted, but did as he bid. Frodo sat up, gingerly, and reached for his leg. “Yes, it feels nearly healed! What a marvel you have brought us, Goldenberry!” The ladies beamed and Frodo laughed. “I am a lucky hobbit to have such prompt and attentive ladies to care for me. I feel almost as good as new!”

“Well, we aren’t going to let you out of this bed yet, my love,” Rosie countered making it quite apparent that she was prepared to do just about anything she needed to keep him resting. “You lost a lot of blood and you will be weak for days! Just you lie quiet and we will care for you as it has always been our delight to do.”

Frodo acquiesced, he was feeling a bit weak after all, and with all his ladies in attendance, he didn’t want to further their dismay by collapsing into their arms again (although he secretly suspected that many of them would enjoy that too!). He eyed Rosie appraisingly and settled back.  

“Let’s take a look at this cut and see how it’s faring, shall we?” Goldenberry waved Lily and Rosie away and gave Meryl a stern look before she sat on the bed beside him. Several of the lasses jostled in for a closer look, Ghyste led the pack after having elbowed several others out of her path. Frodo looked about at the tight circle of curling tresses and heaving bosoms and felt like a laboratory specimen being examined.  

“Some decorum ladies!” Elenillor cried as she was thrust out of her position a very eager Narya. “You’d think we were in a barroom!” The shoving stopped (at least overtly) and a reverent hush settled over the room as the ladies strained to get a peek at the injury. Goldenberry lifted Frodo’s nightshirt, carefully so as only to expose the wound (murmurs of protest were quickly silenced) and pulled the blood-soaked fabric that had been serving as a bandage away from his skin.

“What’s this?” she asked holding up the cloth. The edge was decorated with lace and was obviously from one of the ladies’ undergarments. Elenya blushed.

“It’s from my petticoat, Goldenberry. I had to have something to cover the wound with so I tore it off,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted to do that! We tied one part around his leg and the other I stuffed down his pants.” She turned a darker shade of red as her choice of words drew chuckles from the assembled ladies but drew herself up proudly, knowing she had done the right thing.

“Well, that was fast thinking, and probably saved his…life. Thank you.” The other ladies also patted her on the shoulder and Elenya beamed. Ariel stuck out her tongue at her because she hadn’t thought of it.  

“Well, he’s still got an open wound here, though the bleeding has stopped. I’ll wait till my friend the elven healer (you know, the green one?) comes and together we will stitch this closed. It was a clean cut and should heal well if tended with care.” Goldenberry looked around and noticed the circle of haremite heads had gotten closer in. “Which, I am sure, I can count on?” she added pointedly. The ladies all nodded in swift agreement and some toothy, not so innocent grins. Goldenberry rolled her eyes. This was going to be an interesting convalescence.

 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

 

Frodo was kept almost captive in his bed by an army of very attentive haremites. They barely gave him a moment alone, for at least one, (and often several) ladies remained in his room, ready to do his bidding at a moment’s notice. Usually, he enjoyed their attentions, but he was a relatively solitary hobbit by nature and their constant presence was beginning to grate on his nerves. He tried to remain cordial, but the ladies were becoming concerned with his increasing moodiness. During one shift that Ghyste and Cairistiona stayed with him, he seemed particularly snappish, and the ladies were obliged to sit by the fire as they mended shirts (Frodo’s always seemed to need buttons sewn back on). It wasn’t until he was fully asleep that either dared make a peep.

“I wonder if it’s because he’s still hurting,” Ghyste wondered. “He’s usually so pleasant. This current mood is so unlike him!”  

Cairi nodded and looked over at his sleeping form. “I know. It worries me greatly! I wonder if perhaps he is hurt more than he has let on and doesn’t want us to know.”

Ghyste bit her lip. This was something she hadn’t considered before. “You know, that would explain a lot. But he said he felt so good after Goldenberry gave him that medicine! And when that healer came by and helped her stitch him up, they said he would suffer no lasting effects!”

“That’s true, but who would know better, the healer or the hobbit himself? I still worry that Frodo is more wounded than he lets on!” Cairi dropped the shirt she had been mending into her lap, resigned. “And I had only just gotten here too! Will I only ever be able to dream of him?” She sounded so heartbroken, Ghyste gave her hand a squeeze.

“Fear not, my dear, the elvish medicine has worked wonders so far, I think if we keep giving it to him regularly, he will be completely healed in no time! But that reminds me, I think it is time for his medicine is it not?” She stood, quietly and crept over to Frodo’s nightstand. On the table was the little vial that Goldenberry had brought along with its spoon. Ghyste took the bottle and came back to Cairi. “How much am I supposed to give him?” When Cairi didn’t answer, Ghyste looked up. Cairi stared at her blankly.

“I don’t know, don’t you?” the hobbit lass answered. “I wasn’t even aware that he would be needing a dose yet.”

“Oh, yes, every mealtime… that is what I overheard the elven healer saying. But let’s see what this thing says…” She peered at the label by the light of the fireplace. After a moment or two of intent examination, she gave out a breathy “Whoa…” and looked up at her companion. “You should read what this medication claims! It says it invigorates the blood, cures wounds, sweetens the temper and restores… ‘potency’.” She grinned. “Just what our dear Frodo needs to handle all us lasses, eh? ”

Cairi snickered. “Sounds like ‘snake oil’ if you ask me, but I can’t argue it has helped him. Does it say how much and how often to give it?”

Ghyste looked closer at the label. “Yes, it says right here, quite clearly. ‘Three generous tablespoons full at every meal’. Well, he’s had his luncheon dose, and it’s nearly tea now, so he’s going to need another, and then one at dinner and another at suppertime.” She got up, taking the medicine back to her lord. She sank next to the bed and gently touched his arm. He grumbled and frowned but did not fully waken. “It is time for your medicine again, Frodo…” she whispered, then, poured a full tablespoonful. He took it, greedily, even half asleep, as he did the next spoonful and the next. Obviously the stuff tasted pretty good too. Ghyste restoppered the bottle and Frodo, smacking his lips contentedly, settled immediately back into sleep. She noted with satisfaction how pleased he now looked. He seemed more vibrant and happy than he had been for the past several days. Ghyste nodded to herself and placed the medicine back on the table.  

“Did he take his dose without a fuss?” Cairi asked as Ghyste came back to the fire.  

“Yes, he seems to like it, and he didn’t even wake fully, though he looked happier as soon as he’d taken it. I think that is all he has needed this whole time!.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Cairi. “Though I can’t help wondering why Goldenberry herself never mentioned his medication to us.”

“Probably slipped her mind. But I was there when the elven healer told her ‘every mealtime’ – that I am certain of! – and the instructions on the bottle are quite clear about the amount. You heard me read them! But I’ll see Goldenberry and let her know we’ve given him his medicine so that she doesn’t give it to him twice.”

That seemed to satisfy Cairi, but the moment Ghyste told Goldenberry what she had done, the hobbit healer seemed terribly upset.

“What do you mean you gave him his medicine?!!”

Ghyste shuffled uncomfortably and looked at Talagawen who was tuning her harp. Talaqawen was pretending not to listen but she had been tuning the same string since Ghyste walked into the room. “I just came to tell you so you wouldn’t dose him twice. I was following the directions that are quite clearly written on the label.” Ghyste looked at her defensively. “I am quite good at Quenyan these days and can read it nearly as well as Frodo can, he said so.”

Goldenberry still looked worried. “Oh, dear! I never thought that anyone would be able to read those directions! That dosage is for an elf, not a hobbit! And when the elves say ‘with every meal’ they mean the three they take, not hobbit meals!”

Ghyste blanched. “Uh, oh…,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean any harm, I was just trying to help, and he’s been so fussy lately…. The medicine did calm him and he’s not suffered any side effects that we noticed.”  

Goldenberry sighed and gave her a weak smile, trying to be reassuring. “Well, I suppose one dose early won’t be too bad… but mind you don’t give it to him again! I’ll check with my friend the healer to see what those ‘side effects’ he mentioned were. He never did clarify that, as I recall.”

  
TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

 

Life soon returned to some semblance of normality in Bag End West. Goldenberry learned from her friend the elven healer that the medicine she had been given occasionally made recipients ‘energetic’, though he judged in a household with nearly 30 ladies and one gentlehobbit, this might not be such a problem! Frodo seemed all right, and had suffered no apparent ill effects, so Goldenberry deemed it best to let the matter lie. It wasn’t until she overheard Taurendil, Merewyn, Iorethdttr and Brandy discussing him in the kitchen that she began to suspect he might indeed have been affected by the draught.

“Well, he’s certainly not incapacitated as far as I have seen,” Taurendil exclaimed. “The minute we let him out of bed, he’s done nothing but try and get back into it!”  

Brandy laughed over her tea. She looked a bit tired this morning, but had a satisfied smile. “Yes, but not for sleep!” She tossed her generous curls. “It’s like he’s making up for lost time… and making up, and making up! I have never seen the like!”

“Did you hear?” added Merewyn. “He even went IN to EliyaKirian’s bedroom to find her!”

“Really?” the other ladies gasped. “What happened?” they asked.

Merewyn giggled. “Well, I don’t rightly know, but he didn’t come out for quite a while and I’ve not seen Eliya since!”  

“Yes, about the only one I have even SEEN the next morning was Elda… and SHE looked like the cat that ate the canary!” Iorethdttr scoffed. “And have you SEEN the appointment book?” The other ladies shook their heads no. Iorethdttr looked vaguely disgusted. “Not a blank page in it! Honestly, how’s a lady to get time with her squire?!”

“Well, I don’t know how much attention he’s been paying to it lately anyway… He’s only one hobbit, but I swear that he’s been around the entire harem at least once! And it’s only been a month!” Taurendil shook her head in amusement.  

At that moment, Patricia, Firiel and Gladys walked into the kitchen. All three looked a bit peaked. Patricia and Firiel got themselves tea and sat at the large table, but Gladys took one look at the cups and shook her head as if deciding against it.

“Do we have any crackers?” she asked. “I just can’t seem to get my stomach working lately. I feel so awful.”

Goldenberry quickly found her some crackers and asked if Gladys would like some ginger in her tea as it might help settle her system. Gladys accepted gratefully.

“Yes, Lily was complaining of much the same thing! We just get over a convalescent Frodo and now our sisters are coming down with a bug!” Patricia noted. “She came out to the observatory the other night and almost threw up on my journal!”  

Firiel sipped unenthusiastically at her drink and nodded. “Yes, and Mel too! Although she’s been complaining of being achy and sore, not queasy.” She sighed. “Well, whatever it is we’ve all got, it’s not that bad. I can still function through it has made me retain water something fierce. I can barely lace up my bodice any more.”  

The ladies continued to chat amicably but Goldenberry filed all their symptoms away in her mind. The combination sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it reminded her of. It would probably begin to show in time.

 ~*~

 

By the next week, more ladies were complaining of symptoms of the mysterious ailment. Evenstar, one of the youngest ladies, was by far the worst affected. She lay about for the first half of every day almost too ill to move, but was nearly always better by luncheon. Marigold wasn’t much better, but she’d found that by putting a snack by her bed every evening and eating a bit of it before she even rose, she could control the worst of her symptoms. What bothered the affected ladies most was that there seemed to be a group of their sisters who were NOT becoming ill. These lucky souls included Erendis, Queenie, Rosie, Elda, Ariel, Elevensies, Pearl, Chica, Bethel, Meryl, Quicksilver, Stormy and Goldenberry. While it would be assumed that the healers among them would be able to keep themselves healthy (though this kind of thinking was belayed by the fact that Evenstar was sicker than anyone!) it just didn’t seem fair that some would fall ill and others would not. Lily marked this disparity bitterly.

“You know,” she fumed. “What irritates me the most is that Frodo’s been so sweet and attentive lately, and most of us are too sick to even enjoy his company! And there go that lot, especially Elda and Meryl, hogging his time nearly to the exclusion of all else! If I see Elda with that sappy grin on her face one more time, I am going to hit her!”

Aisling nodded in agreement. “And Pearl hasn’t been much better! She and Rosie both have been so sweet tempered and maternal I could just scream. Do you know when I got sick last time, she had the nerve to send me to bed and even tried to tuck me in?” Lily didn’t think it wise to mention that Aisling had been becoming as cross and moody as Pearl was becoming maternal – they were uncharacteristic moods for both of them.  

“Ele has been acting like that too,” piped up MelodyM. “I swear I have never seen her so sweet tempered! If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was taking some of Frodo’s medicine! She’s positively glowing.” The sweet hobbitlass scowled. “It’s all those evenings she’s been spending with Frodo, darn her! I’d be contented too!”  

Erendis, who’d been listening quietly in the corner with Elenillor, closed her book and looked disapprovingly at them. “Well, I wouldn’t be too jealous of those ladies,” she said pointedly. “It seems to me that nearly everyone who’s gotten 10 feet of Frodo lately has come down with this illness! They’ll get theirs sooner or later, I feel sure.”

River Daughter frowned at her. “Well, you haven’t exactly shown any signs of illness either, Erendis. Shouldn’t you be one of the ones we are irritated at?”

Erendis looked smug. “Well, **I** haven’t gotten near Frodo since the accident! I knew right off something fishy was going on when the first of you started getting sick. I don’t know what is, but if those others are greedy enough to hog all his time, then they will pay for their actions, and in spades!” The ladies looked at each other guiltily. Erendis did have a point. None of them had gotten ill until after they had been with Frodo. “See what I mean?” The dark haired lass chided. “Sorry, but whatever is going around, I’m going to give it a pass, thank you very much!”

“Well, that’s one way of handling it, I suppose,” Anais yawned. “But it’s too late for me, whatever it is, I’ve already got it, and I can only hope it’s nothing permanent.”

  
TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

  
Goldenberry heard about Erendis’ theory and had to agree it had merit. She had been far too busy since the accident to spend any time with Frodo herself and she began to suspect that fact had spared her. A sneaking suspicion of something else was also growing in her mind. The symptoms DID seem familiar, but the ‘malady’ that they suggested was impossible! She finally determined to meet with her friend the elven healer and to see if there was any way her notion could be true.  

In Avallone, at the shop of her friend, Goldenberry also met Elrond. It seemed word had gotten around that Frodo had been injured so, knowing the other healer had attended him, he had come to visit to find out what had happened.  

“Oh, he’s fine now,” Goldenberry assured him. “But it’s the lasses I am worried about. They’ve been showing some signs of a condition I was of the belief would not be possible for them to… here at least.”

“What do you mean?” Elrond asked innocently.

“Well,” Goldenberry said, not knowing exactly how to put it. “I haven’t actually checked, not wanting to alarm anyone, but I am beginning to suspect that healing draught might have cured more than just Frodo’s wound.” She looked up at Elrond uncomfortably. “If I may ask, my lord, did you ever place any kind of magic on our household to insure that there would never be any more, um… little Bagginses?”

Elrond blinked, still not comprehending. “There is no magic other than the that of the isle itself on you. Frodo was so badly wounded that he couldn’t…” and there the elven lord stopped, gulped and realization dawned in his face. “Oh, no!” he whispered and stared at the hobbit maid. “You aren’t serious!”

Goldenberry blushed. “Well, I’ll have to check, but he did accidentally get an overdose of the medicine. My friend here said it wouldn’t harm him, but I was wondering if perhaps it healed more than was intended?”

The green skinned healer started to giggle, and almost choked on his oatmeal cookie. “Well,” he said still grinning, “I’ve never used it on a hobbit before so I can’t say what every side effect might have been, but I suppose it’s possible.” Elrond gave him a stern, worried look.  

“But this can’t be!” he protested. “It goes against everything we planned when we brought him here!” He turned his increasingly frantic eyes to Goldenberry. “How many of the hobbit ladies are experiencing these ‘symptoms’?” he demanded.

Goldenberry wished she could be anywhere else. “Um, nearly… all of them?” she answered in a soft voice.

Elrond blanched and the green skinned elven healer almost fell out of his chair roaring with laughter.  

“I think we need to pay a visit to Bag End West right NOW!”  

 

~*~ 

 

Frodo was pretty sure he should have been ashamed of himself.

Ever since the ‘incident’ and subsequent healing, there had not been one instant that his mind hadn’t been on… well, things he should have been ashamed of himself for! But he couldn’t seem to help it! It was as if he had suddenly become a young lad of 30 again – and like all lads of that age, he was preoccupied with a single driving purpose. The only difference between the days Frodo had been 30 and the present was that this time he had a host of lovely maidens with which to explore this ‘preoccupation’; thirty lovely hobbit lasses who wanted nothing but to spend their time with him. Yes, he was positive he should have been ashamed of himself, but the lure of their loveliness could not be denied. He would find himself reading, or trying to work and the sudden flash of a lovely throat or the heaving of a generous bosom would elicit a response he could not hide. And it wasn’t as if his attentions were unwelcome, indeed, the ladies seemed quite pleased with the change in him, though as the days went by, fewer and fewer of them felt up to the challenge. He couldn’t understand it – he was feeling wonderful, very ‘healthy’, said those who had been in a position to know, but lately many of those he had spent time with were complaining of fatigue and an odd sickness that occurred most frequently in the early morning.  

The ladies’ illness did worry him. He feared that he was the cause, but as a life long bachelor, he had no reason to suspect it was other than something he had been exposed to that was to blame. He tried to be consolatory and tended those who were sick as sweetly as only he could, but nothing seemed to help. There was also the poor hobbit’s dawning realization that he was running out of haremites who were interested in sharing his bed. Normally this concern would have been the least of his worries, but lately he could not seem to keep his mind on less carnal matters. He only hoped the handful that had not fallen ill would remain unaffected – or he would become one very frustrated hobbit!

  
TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

 

When Goldenberry returned that afternoon, both Elrond and Gandalf accompanied her. Bag End West was a spacious home by hobbit standards, but both the wizard and the elf had to stoop to enter. They asked Frodo and his ladies to meet with them in the large parlor because there was something important that needed to be discussed. Bilbo was also visiting and attended the meeting, not wanting to miss anything.

Frodo wasn’t certain what it was all about but trusted his friends and entered the room with Ethel on one arm and Bethel on the other looking rather contented. When all were seated and comfortable, he asked what the matter was.

“We’ve heard some reports, Frodo,” Gandalf began. “That your ladies are experiencing some sort of malady.” His face was stern, but his dark eyes twinkled with barely contained mirth. “And we were concerned enough to want to see if we could determine what the problem might be.” Frodo nodded with agreement.

“Oh, please do! I don’t know what the matter is and it distresses me. I always try to see that my ladies are taken good care of.”

“Oh, we can see you are ‘taking good care’ of them!” retorted Elrond with distress.  

“Excuse me?” Frodo asked politely, not having the slightest clue what could have irritated the elven lord so.

“My dear Frodo,” Elrond said impatiently. “Just what have you been up to in this house we have so graciously provided you?” At that Frodo blushed crimson and many of the ladies giggled. Bilbo started snickering from his chair by the fire.

“Now, Elrond,” Gandalf soothed. “We did bring the ladies here to comfort him in his exile. You have to expect something of this sort.” Gandalf was having a hard time controlling the laughter in his voice.

“Yes, but there are more than THIRTY of them! And it’s only been a month!”  

Quicksilver thought for a moment and shook her head. “No, actually we are closer to 50 by now…” she corrected. The look Elrond spared her was icy cold, but he rounded on a bewildered Frodo.  

“FIFTY!?!?! What are you, hobbits or rabbits?” He began to pace, a difficult proposition in such a crowded room. “What were we thinking?! ‘We’ll bring the ringbearer to Tol Eressea, for all he has done and to give him peace’, but we didn’t expect you to start your own colony!” Elrond shook his head. “Fifty! I can’t believe it. It’s a wonder Middle Earth wasn’t crawling with hobbits!” He eyed Frodo with growing disapproval. “I wonder what you did in your ‘spare’ time, though I can’t see how you could possibly have had any!”

Frodo paled – he might have been a confirmed bachelor, but it was starting to dawn on him what Elrond was alluding to. Several of the ladies were also catching on and expressions in the room ranged from ecstatic delight to pale faced horror. Bilbo started laughing, his face beaming and tears of mirth streaming from his eyes. Ezzie, alarmed and thinking him overcome, patted his back and tried to be supportive but he was laughing so hard he fell right out of the chair to roll on the floor in hysterics. Hewene passed out on the spot.  

“But… I’ve been here for years!” he protested. “And nothing like this has ever happened before! I thought it was impossible!”

“Obviously not.” Gandalf quit trying to hide his delight and roared with as much amusement as Bilbo. Frodo sank into the one chair left in the room, stunned.

“I had no idea such a thing was possible here!” He looked around the room and noted the varying expressions and excited chatter of his ladies. Ele fairly beamed at him. “Are you sure?” he asked, incredulously.

“Well, no, Frodo,” Goldenberry answered. “I haven’t checked anyone, but it fits all the symptoms and we suspect that elven medicine might have been to blame. It’s a pretty strong cure, so I am told.”

“I think ‘strong’ is an understatement.” Elrond looked around the room at the mix of beaming and distraught ladies. “The effects will wear off in time, Frodo, but I think the ‘damage’ is already done!”  

“Wait a minute!” Hobmom cried a little fearfully. “Some of us haven’t gotten sick at all! Maybe we aren’t all…. You know…” she finished lamely, as if afraid to give the condition voice.

“Though not for lack of trying,” muttered Erendis almost but not quite under her breath and staring at Ariel, Elda and Pearl most especially.

“Yes,” Ele agreed. “I haven’t been sick in the slightest! In fact I feel wonderful! Darned! Trust my bad luck!” She looked genuinely depressed that she had not been throwing up every morning.

Lily and Mel gave Ele positively withering looks. Stormy cleared her throat but was grinning. “Well, some lucky souls never do experience the joys of morning sickness…” she informed them. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t just as pregnant. My guess is you will find out for sure soon enough.”

Frodo was still trying desperately to get his mind around the news. It was beyond anything he had even hoped to imagine and he wasn’t sure about how he felt. Well, there were far worse things that could have happened, he had to admit, and the thought of a houseful of little ones, all his, did have a growing appeal. He tried very hard to keep the grin that was threatening to show on his face as he addressed the increasingly vexed Elrond.

“Um, am I… in trouble?” he asked fearfully.  

At that Elrond threw up his hands, defeated. “Even if you were, what could we do about it now?!” The elf fell back into his chair and studied the hobbit. Frodo was having an increasingly hard time keeping the grin off his face. “I still can’t get over the number….fifty, and in even fewer days! My dear boy, that’s a feat nearly equal to destroying the ring! I am astonished! Though I dare say, I don’t know what we are going to do about it. I suppose you should be punished, but I haven’t the slightest idea what we would punish you for.” He looked around the room at the still chattering haremites. “Unless it could be for ‘endurance’!”

Frodo blushed and Bilbo started howling in hysterics all over again. Gandalf was grinning ear to ear and most of the ladies, getting over their initial shock had begun to crowd around Frodo to tearfully hug him. Hewene was still out cold on the floor.

“I wouldn’t be too hard on the boy,” Gandalf said to Elrond, trying to raise his laughing voice over the din. “I think being in a house with 50 hobbit lasses, all pregnant at the same time will be punishment enough.”  

Luckily, Frodo didn’t hear the comment, but he certainly would find out what Gandalf meant in time.

 

Then End.... Or perhaps just the beginning?


End file.
